Forgive and Forget
by indigofrog
Summary: After the war, Katniss isn't the only one who found it hard to move on. Gale also blamed himself for what he had done yet he prayed that the woman he loved would one day forgive him. However, he never plucked up the courage to talk to her to find out. What happens when he loses her forever, and with it, his chance to forgive and forget? Three chapters
1. Chapter 1

Gale Hawthorne, now 63, unlocked the door to his enormous mansion in what had been District two. Many of the older 'Victors' hadn't wanted to stay in the houses they had been assigned and had sold them soon after the rebellion. Gale had been one of those fortunate enough to live in one now, as a war veteran. The house was cold, dark and lonely. Gale lived alone.

He heard the already programmed television in the living room switching on to the six o'clock news as he flicked the light switch. It was now a regular feature on ONE, the first of five channels. ONE always showed official business, fundraisers and documentaries; TWO was renowned for its dramas of the past, using old records stored in what was the capital; THREE showed mainly children's shows in the daytime, repeats at night; FOUR showed various films which were now being made in their hundreds. Channel FIVE was particularly special. It was nicknamed the history channel. In addition to the programmes about life before the districts, the rebellion and the Capital, were tributes to all those who died in the 75 years of the Hunger Games and the war which followed.

Beetee - who looked amazing for his age - and Cressida, who both read the news, sat solemnly at their desk as they did everyday. Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith had been chosen to report to begin with but there had been complaints about the manner in which the bad news was delivered. Gale had no idea that today would be so very different.

"We regret to inform you," said Beetee in his factual voice, "that Victor of the 74th Hunger Games, Mockingjay for the nation and personal friend of mine, Katniss Melark - formerly Everdeen - pasted away this morning."

The world stopped. Gale dropped his bag and the keys in his bag. He walked towards to television. Then he speeded up, jogging, running. No! No, No, No, No, No! NO! anything but those words.

"Mrs Melark," not those words either, "went into the woods from her house in twelve late last night. When she returned in the early hour of the morning, her husband claims she simply came to bed as if nothing had happened."

Now the woman began. "Peeta Melark, Victor of the 74th Hunger Games, told the Peacekeepers that she would often have nightmare and go for a walk to calm down, often with a pen and notepad to draw or write. This morning, after a walk down the road to the local bakery, Mr Melark returned to find Katniss dead. The autopsy confirmed that she simply pasted over in her sleep aged 67."

"It has been confirmed that she will be buried in the tribute field along with all those who fought for our freedom, either as a tribute or in the rebellion. As a tribute to this spectacular woman who fought to get us out of a the cruel dictatorship of the Capital, the 74th and 75th Hunger Games, both of which Katniss fought in and survived, will be shown later this week on ONE. May this fallen Victor, Soldier, Wife, Mother and friend to many, let the Mockingjay rest forever in peace."

The new anthem of Panem filled the speakers and the screen was filled with Katniss, right from when she was wearing two braids instead of one at school, to the reaping, the tribute parade, her interview, the games, victory, the second reaping, second parade, second interview, second games. Then came the images of Katniss fighting in District eight, some of the promos they filmed, the execution and assassination of Snow and Coin. And all that happened after. The film ended with a picture of the mockingjay sign.

Back in the studio, Beetee and the rest of the reporters had teary eyes.

"This truly is," Beetee sniffed, "a dark day, not only for Panem, but for the universe."

The news moved on the the weather - hosted by a young girl with auburn hair and fox-like features - but Gale hardly noticed. How could he? Even after the bomb that...that... Katniss might not have forgiven him, but he hadn't forgiven himself either. They might not have spoken in years but... Gale always felt that if he had wanted to he could have picked up the phone, waited for the dialling to end and hear the long lost voice which had always made him feel better.

Gale could have got on a train or a hovercraft and rode for a couple of hours, knowing that at the end he would see that face. Her face. So often had he been tempted. Once, Gale even bought a ticket and gone to the station. Gale just couldn't.

It wouldn't just be her, it would be her mother - who's scorn and hatred could burn though him; Peeta with the smug look he always wore on television when walking down the red carpet with Katniss on his arm at the Hunger Games Memorial service every year. What about their children? Do they know what he did?

And Katniss herself. He alway hoped that she would have forgiven him but something inside told him she hadn't. Perhaps Gale had an overactive imagination? Whenever he had watch her on the screen at the memorial service, she was always looking around, ignoring the news crew and staring absently into the distance when people were talking to her.

Grabbing the cushion beside him, he hurled it sat the television, knocking over the vase on the table in doing so. Amongst the glass, Gale picked up a flower. The scream rocketed through the whole house.

A sob escaped Gale's mouth. Finally, he couldn't contain it. "KATNISS!"

"Katniss. No, you can't be gone, you can't. No!"

}+{

When his housekeeper arrived the next day, she found the old man curled up on his sofa, clutching a single white flower from the vase on the coffee table she refilled every morning. His eyes were red and raw from the abundance of tears he had cried. She asked what was wrong over and over, but he only uttered one word. A whisper. Small, quiet, barely a breath. Over and over and over and over until it drove anyone who cared to listen crazy.

"Catnip."


	2. Chapter 2

The train ride to what had been District 12 seemed to take for ever. Since the war, Gale had been repulsed by the hovercraft that transported most people and produce around the new Panem. They reminded him of travelling to the warfront with the other soldiers, knowing that he had left deadly weapons in the hands of Coin but with no idea what she was planning to do with them.

Although the train took far longer, it helped Gale reminisce about the past. He imagined how all the tributes must have felt, stepping on a train for the first time in their life and knowing that it would probably be the last time too.

_I wonder where Catnip was going the last time she was on a train,_ thought Gale.

}+{

The service was jam-packed, filled with faces Gale had hoped never to see again. He had slipped in and sat in the very back row next to a pillar which held up the wall of what he always remembered as the Justice Building.

No one noticed him and even if they had, he doubted they would have identified him. At one point a grief-stricken Peeta had looked in Gale's direction but - even when their eyes met - no recognition graced his face.

Outside, hundreds of fans and news crews had gathered to pay tribute to the Mockingjay. Between them and the peacekeepers, the funerals guests - many of them ex-tributes who were all in amazing shape considering their age - had managed to keep them out.

}+{

Gale didn't cry during the ceremony. He simply sat in a grieving silence. Many people go up to talk, mentioning Katniss's great feats against President Snow and the capitol, how she tried desperately to save the lives of everyone she could. When Annie got up, for the first time since the war, when her beloved Finnick had perished, she spoke calmly, however dazed her eyes were.

"Katniss was a wonderful person, loved by so many. At first," she continued, "I was worried that she lonely, wherever she has gone. But then I realised that she would be with other friends. And if I know Finnick, he'll be waiting for her at the pearly gates and Rue and Prim, best friends, of course, would have planned a party for her. Everyone there will be celebrating that she has joined them. So don't worry, Peeta," Annie looked at him. "Katniss will have friends wherever she is."

Outside the mass of people gathered around a small opening in the earth. Slowly, they lowered in a pure white coffin - the last time she would ever be above the ground, out in the open air that she had always loved so much. That was when Peeta made his speech.

Afterwards, Gale claimed he could hardly remember what he had spoken about. He reminded everyone how loved she was and what she did for the entire country and her victory in not only one hunger games, but two. Of course he mentioned Snow's execution - failing to state anything about Coin's.

Honestly, although he would never have admitted it, Gale hadn't wanted to listen to the monologue. Not because Peeta spoken the words, but because he was speaking of the Katniss that everyone knew. Katniss the Mockingjay who led the rebellion and does interviews with the press and has hundreds of books written about her by fans.

Peeta didn't speak about Katniss Everdeen, loving daughter and sister and wife and mother from the slums of District Twelve who had been unfairly reaped into a vicious games. A girl who had to leave behind her entire life and saved him because she couldn't go home knowing she had killed him. A girl who would have had a completely different, a simpler life, if Peeta hadn't complicated it.

That wasn't the Katniss Gale knew. Not the Katniss he wanted to remember. Not the Katniss he loved. Not his Katniss. Never.

}+{

Slowly, the guests began to clear. Firstto go we're the people who had only known her since the war, those who knew her as, and would remember her as the Mockngjay. Then a family friend took Katniss's two children by the hand and led them back towards the car along with her mother who was being pushed along in a wheelchair.

Now there was only one group of people left - the victors. Johanna stood beside Peeta, holding her hand in his while Beetee and Haymitch looked on. It seems all the victors - those who had survived this long anyway - had been invited. Some even Gale didn't recognise.

Then, they all did something truly incredible. Seemingly on instinct, they began tospread themselves out to form a circle around the fresh grave. As if in a daze, one by one, they all held hands - transporting themselves (and Gale, the only onlooker) back to the last Hunger Games.

For a moment, Gale even thought he could hear Caeser Flickerman and Effie Trinket. "And welcome to the 75th Annual Hunger Games...May the odds be ever in your favour...Remember girl on fire, I'm still betting on you."

}+{

An hour later, the cemetery was empty. Peeta had been the last to leave, resting a single white rose on the headstone and whispering something before placing three of his fingers to his mouth and then outstretching his arm towards the grave.

No one did that anymore. In schools, in hundreds of years, children might watch films of the games in a history lesson. Once in a while, someone might raise their hand to ask what the gesture meant and the teacher would inform them it was a sign of respect. None of them, however would truly understand the enormity of it.

Finally, Gale had his chance. He stepped out from behind the tree and carefully, glancing around once or twice to ensure he really was alone, walked over to the grave.

Even though the blazing sun set was probably blinding him, Gale never shielded his face, wanting Katniss, wherever she was, to recognise him.

"Hello, Catnip." He paused. "It's me, Gale. I...I just wanted to say that...I'm sorry."

Tears, hidden for years, ever since he last saw her at the execution (or assassination as some named it) of President Coin.

"I know you can never forgive me for what I did and I can't excuse I either, but...I really am sorry, Catnip. It shouldn't have taken this for me to tell you."

He stood there, wanting to say more, so much more but finding that the words have left him. Eventually, he realised there was only one other thing he needed to say.

"Catnip, I...I love you."


	3. Chapter 3

Two weeks later and Gale had hardly left the house. On his one trip down the road he had been unfortunate enough to pass a flower and herb stall selling rosemary, paprika and, among other things, katniss root. Gale had broken down, right there in the middle of the street. It had taken four ex-soldiers and a couple of builders to carry him home, kicking and screaming all the way.

Gale did not scream at Peeta. He did not scream at her. He screamed at himself. Before the reaping he could have told her his feelings. After, he couldn't find the words. Now it was too late.

She would never know.

Or would she. Had she known all along? Gale doubted it.

As usual, the television had automatically switched itself on, tuning into ONE just in time for the news.

"Hello," began Beetee, his eyes showing no sign of the tears he shed at Katniss' funeral. "Welcome to the six o'clock news. Our main story features the Odair fishing company in District Four which has just reopened after a small fire caused damage to the-"

Gale pressed the OFF button of the remote and sat down on the sofa. It appeared that his housekeeper had visited earlier this afternoon - the smell of furniture polish coated the air and there were fresh flowers on the table.

They were primroses.

On her very first day he had ordered the housekeeper to never bring those into the house. Why would she have..?

It was then that he saw it. Beneath the flowers, hidden away so that Gale may not have seen it if he hadn't been staring intently at them, he noticed the a small snow-white envelope. His name was written on his.

His old, wrinkled hands moved across the table and picked it up. Surprisingly, it was hand-written, a rare sight considering most people had a computer now. Gale couldn't even remember the last time he had been sent a letter.

On the reverse were seventeen post-marks. He could see the symbol for District Four - a trident - and Eleven - an apple tree. In the left hand corner was a stamp from Twelve, showing a fire, and there were two from the Captiol - one Mockingjay in the centre and one on the right-hand side. The letter had been everywhere so it was almost certainly months old. Who could have sent it?

With his frail hands, Gale pulled on the seal, ripping the paper slightly and pulled out the letter.

_Dear Gale,_

_My dear friend. So many times over these long years have I begun to write to you but been unable to find the words to set down on paper. Now, I fear I am reaching the end but find that I cannot leave without speaking to you one final time._

_I hope you like the flowers. They have been preserved in a chemical to prevent them from ever wilting and the tips of their petals have been dipped in a liquid made from nightlock and katniss root._

_Perhaps you don't want to speak to me. That would be understandable. Once you were my best friend but for the last forty or so years I have ignored you entirely. How are you, Gale? I hope that things have turned out as well for you as they have done for me. I shall not bore you with tiresome details of my life but I hope that maybe I will one day find a reply to this letter at my door with many details about your family._

_Time is flying now and I fear that I will leave too many things unsaid. Logic assures me that we will never meet face to face again but I never did listen to logic and I hope that you still don't either. You and I have lived together in poverty and in rebellion, though war and through peace and I know I would not have survived for this long without the knowledge, strength and hope that you have bestowed on me._

_My time is ending, Gale, yet I do not fear the end, for I know that there are people waiting for me on the other side. I pray that I will see you again, if not in this life then in the next._

_I pray each day to see your face for one final time but know deep inside that I never will. I want you to know that I have forgiven you. I don't and never have blamed you for the loss of my sister and only wish that you hadn't blamed yourself. Then maybe these last years would have been so greatly different. Your are forgiven, my love._

_You always taught me never to say goodbye so I will instead bid you farewell._

_All my devotion, love and forgiveness,_

_Catnip_

The letter was dated a month ago. This may have been the last thing she had written before she had died, when she had left the house in the middle of the night to write it in their forest.

Gale shed a single tear.

He closed his eyes.

They never opened again.


End file.
